


VIII. Talk to Me

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-13
Updated: 2006-08-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam needs Dean.  Dean has a solution until he can get there. Eighth in the Trust Series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Talk To Me – VIII. Trust Series  
 **Author:** Shorts  
 **Pairings/Character:** Dean/Sam  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Category:** Slash  
 **Word Count:** 2,355  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Summary:** Sam’s a bit impatient for Dean to get back.  
 **Note** Eighth in the Trust Series.

TALK TO ME  
By Shorts

The cell phone rang and Dean shifted, pulling it out of his coat pocket as he drove. “Hello.”

“Where are you?” asked Sam.

“In the car,” answered Dean in a tone usually reserved for small children and stupid questions.

“I mean, _where_ are you?” repeated Sam.

Smirking, Dean held the phone away from his ear and stared at it before bringing it back. “I’m about an hour away. Why?” That wasn’t exactly true, it was closer to a half hour, but he always added in for unforeseen delays such as weather or other cars. The few times he had taken longer than Sam had expected, there had been hell to pay trying to explain what kept him.

“Just wondering,” answered Sam. A faint rustling could be heard over the connection.

“Uh huh,” said Dean. He bent his head forward, trying to capture the elusive sound in the background. “What is that?”

“No way you could get here sooner, is there?” asked Sam, ignoring Dean’s question.

“Dude,” answered Dean. “I’m already pushing way past the legal limit.”

“Oh,” was Sam’s only reply.

“Is something wrong?” asked Dean, his protective streak kicking into overdrive at the possibility that Sam might be in trouble. Automatically, his foot pressed harder on the gas peddle, pushing the Impala even faster along the dark highway.

“No,” Sam hastened to answer. “Just . . . “

“What?” demanded Dean, maintaining the increased speed, his brow creasing at the unfinished sentence. If he really pushed it, he could be there in twenty minutes.

“Nothing,” mumbled Sam. 

The muffled sound Dean was straining to make out ceased. “Talk to me, Sam.” The distance between him and his brother suddenly seemed a helluva lot further than it did less than five minutes ago.

“It’s no big deal,” said Sam.

Flicking to his low beams as an oncoming car approached, Dean leaned back into the car seat. “Then it should be no big deal to tell me.”

“I’m just restless,” Sam finally answered.

Turning it over in his mind, Dean’s eyes widened with a grin of understanding. “You’re horny!”

“What the hell, Dean!” snapped Sam. “Why would you jump to that conclusion?”

“Tell me if I’m right or wrong,” challenged Dean. “You just got out of the shower.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And right now, you’re lying on the bed . . .” continued Dean.

“What does that have to do with . . . “ interrupted Sam.

“Naked,” finished Dean.

A silence hung between them. Only the hum of the tires on the black asphalt could be heard as Dean waited.

“Maybe,” hesitated Sam.

“Sam . . . ,” warned Dean.

“Look, I only called to find out where you were, okay?” Sam’s voice held a tinge of irritation.

“I’m coming as fast as I can,” said Dean, his own voice softening.

“I know.” Sam’s tone changed to match Dean’s.

“Unless you’ve discovered the secret to instant traveling, there’s not much I can do about it,” said Dean. He put his high beams back on. At the speed his was traveling, he needed to see any unexpected obstructions with as much notice as possible. 

“I guess I’ll see you when you get here,” said Sam, full of resignation.

“Wait,” said Dean.

“What?”

“Do you have the lights on?” asked Dean, a wicked thought forming.

“Yeah, why?” answered Sam.

“Turn them off,” instructed Dean.

“Why do you want . . . ,” started Sam.

“Just do it,” said Dean. He listened as the muffled sound of Sam moving around drifted over the phone.

“They’re off,” said Sam.

“Good. Now lie back down on the bed,” said Dean.

“Dean, what are you up to?” asked Sam, but the creak of the mattress gave him away that he was doing as he was asked.

“Just follow along, okay?” Dean licked his lips, trying to imagine Sam sprawled out on the bed, long legs and arms taking up as much as room as possible.

“Fine,” sighed Sam. “Now what? If you think meditation is going to help, forget it. I’ve already tried.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Which hand are you holding the phone with?” asked Dean.

“My right.”

“Switch hands.” Dean waited. “Did you switch the phone to your left hand?”

“Yeah,” answered Sam, a little of his earlier irritation rising to the surface.

Dean grinned. “Place your right hand on your chest.”

“Dean, we’re not going to do this,” said Sam.

“C’mon Sam, I’m closer than you think,” coerced Dean. “I’ll be there before you know it.”

A put upon sigh was Sam’s only reply.

“Sam?”

“Fine, but if this gets too weird we stop,” said Sam.

“It won’t,” assured Dean. “Just run your hand over your chest and tease your nipples. Imagine it’s my mouth licking and nipping them until they’re hard.”

“Dean . . . ,” started Sam.

“Just try it,” encouraged Dean. He glanced down at his speed, easing back a little. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he ended up crashing or getting stopped by the cops.

Listening to the smooth, steady sound of Sam’s breathing, Dean adjusted his hold on his cell phone. “Pinch and twist them, Sam, feel the tiny jolts of pleasure as I use my teeth.”

A small gasp escaped Sam.

“Are they sensitive, Sam?” asked Dean, leaning slightly against the car door.

“Yeah,” breathed Sam.

“Are you getting hard?” Dean bit his lower lip.

“Uh huh.”

“Trail your fingers down your stomach and tease the skin just below your belly button,” said Dean. “Feel the muscles twitch and jump beneath the light touch.”

Sam’s breathing sounded louder.

“Move your hand back up your stomach and chest,” said Dean, catching the highway mileage sign as it passed and dared to go a little faster.

“Dean . . . ,” protested Sam.

“You want to touch yourself, but you can’t,” said Dean. “Not until I tell you, understand? Now, if you don’t already have it handy, I want you to get the lube out of my bag.”

“Dean,” objected Sam.

“I want you hard enough that you’re squirming and dripping for my touch,” continued Dean. He grinned at the heavy sigh that carried over the phone. “In fact, I want you so far out on the edge when I get there I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

Despite Sam’s attempts to stifle it, a half muffled groan could be heard.

“Oh, and Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Put on my leather jacket,” said Dean. A strangled noise brought a grin to Dean’s lips. “Let me know when you’re settled back on the bed and you’ve coated two fingers with the lube.” He waited as the phone was set down.

“Okay,” said Sam, faintly.

“Bend your knees and spread your legs,” said Dean, shifting slightly. “Circle your opening and spread the lube.”

The rustle of movement was barely audible over Sam’s heavy breathing.

“Push both your fingers deep inside. Now!” ordered Dean. He felt himself start to respond to the erotic noises coming from Sam.

“Oh, god,” hissed Sam.

“Does it burn? Are you being stretched, getting ready for me?” asked Dean, gripping his cell phone with fingers gone white.

A stifled choke was all the answer Sam could voice.

“I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers, Sam.” Dean’s voice took on a harsh rasp. “Talk to me, tell me what you’re feeling.”

“It . . . it aches, but it’s . . . a good ache,” gasped Sam. “Cold chills are running up and down as I slide my fingers in and out.”

Dean dropped his head back before snapping his attention back to the road.

“I’m tight, but my fingers are forcing me open,” breathed Sam. “It’s not enough. I need you.”

It was Dean’s turn to groan. “Add a third finger, I want to be able to slide deep inside you when I get there.”

A grunt and long hiss between clenched teeth came from Sam.

“Are you hard Sam? Are you aching for release?” asked Dean, leaning slightly forward as the confines of his own jeans tightened.

“Yes,” choked out Sam.

“Good,” said Dean. He resisted the urge to close his eyes, to better imagine Sam pleasuring himself. “Push in hard and deep. Find the sweet spot that will have you begging for me.”

A moment later, Sam bit back a loud grunt of pleasure.

“I’m almost there Sam,” said Dean, flashing past the town limits sign. “I’m going to sink so far inside you, you’re going to taste me.”

Sam no longer tried to contain the sounds of need passing his lips.

Forcing himself to slow down, Dean approached the motel entrance. “I want you to remove your fingers Sam and turn over. Don’t move or touch yourself. Wait for me on your hands and knees.”

As the sound of Sam dropping the phone reached Dean, he parked and turned off the car. Climbing out, he hurried to the motel door, taking a moment to undo his jeans before easing the key inside and unlocking the door. The sight that greeted him almost caused his knees to buckle.

Sam was on the bed, head hanging as he waited on hands and knees, just as Dean had told him. The sound of Dean entering the room had him turning his head and looking over his shoulder. “I’m glad you hurried.”

Clicking the door closed, Dean shoved his jeans and jockeys past his knees and moved in behind Sam. “Me, too.” Hoping Sam had used plenty of lube, he gripped him by the hips and shoved hard and deep inside.

Sam arched, a mixture of pain and pleasure locking his throat as Dean stretched and filled him to almost breaking as he forced himself inside.

Gasping as soft walls of muscles rippled around him, Dean pulled out slightly and pushed deeper inside. “Fuck, but you’re tight.”

“Keep going,” breathed Sam, pushing back against Dean, welcoming the burn and pain.

Wrapping his arms tight around Sam’s chest, Dean lifted him up and back until Sam was sitting astride his thighs, legs bent on either side. Shifting, he settled on his heels and bunched up jeans.

Sam gasped and dropped his head back onto Dean’s shoulder as he was impaled even deeper. He felt exposed as Dean shifted his legs further apart, limiting his movement.

Burying his face in the crook of Sam’s neck and pushing the leather collar aside, Dean sank even further into the hot, tight passage. Hugging him tight, he ran his hand down Sam’s body and fondled his weeping shaft. Rocking his hips, he moved inside Sam, teasing them both.

“More,” gasped Sam, straining to fuck himself on the hard column nestled deep inside and into the fist that wasn’t near tight enough.

Relenting to both their needs, Dean leaned forward, keeping Sam’s legs spread as far as they would go comfortably. Curling over Sam’s back, he moved with long, sure thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted?” panted Dean, as velvet walls clenched and trembled around his cock.

“Yes,” said Sam, as he realized he still didn’t have the leverage to move against Dean and buried his face into the pillow, surrendering to Dean’s rhythm. 

Changing his angle, Dean finally found the sweet spot that had Sam bucking against him. Keeping a slow, steady pace, he tightened his grasp on Sam’s weeping cock and started to stroke him in time to his thrusts.

A deep, guttural growl tore from Sam’s throat as Dean relentlessly continued to slide over his prostate, sending waves of jolting pleasure through him. . “Dean . . . ,” begged Sam, as he clenched his hands into fists.

Using his other hand, Dean slipped it under the leather jacket Sam wore and pinched and twisted the rock hard pebbles of Sam’s nipples. He was rewarded with the Sam’s tight passage clamping down hard on him.

Sam shuddered, losing himself into the whirlwind of his orgasm as every muscle strained into the release.

Riding out Sam’s orgasm, Dean continued to thrust into the spasming channel. Squeezing his eyes closed he bent forward and steadying Sam with a firm hold on either hip, he pounded hard and fast into him.

Spent, Sam choked back a sob as Dean continued to brush against his over sensitive prostate as he strove for his own completion. He tried to shift his hips to change the angle, but Dean had an iron hold on him and he was helpless against the intense sensations battering his already tender nerve endings

The familiar tingle surged through Dean and he tightened his hold on Sam’s hips. He straightened, arching back slightly as he rode his climax, bucking erratically as he lost the rhythm. Panting for air, he collapsed on top of Sam, pushing them both flat onto the bed.

Sam’s muscles jerked and twitched from the aftermath, small jolting sparks flashed over him with every breath they took as Dean still brushed over his prostate while slowly softened inside him.

“Are you okay?” asked Dean, easing out of Sam. He noted Sam tensing as he slipped free.

“Uh huh,” answered Sam, his voice thick and almost inaudible.

Rolling onto his back, Dean stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. “So, are you going to tell me what set you off earlier?”

Sam lifted and turned his head, dropping it heavily back down as he looked at Dean beneath lowered lashes. “Not much, really.”

Dean looked over at Sam, pinning him with his gaze.

A slight blush tinted Sam’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “That new soap you bought has these little rough things in it that is supposed to help scrub you clean.”

Dean continued to stare at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Well, it adds a little more sensation when washing,” finished Sam, refusing to go any further into detail. 

Dean blinked. “You couldn’t take care of the situation yourself?”

Sam gave a half assed shrug. “Sure, but you have to admit, this was more fun.”

Speechless, Dean slowly broke into a grin. Leave it to Sam to turn something as ordinary as showering into an erotic adventure.


End file.
